The Rev’d Ivica Gregrec

Advent 2 (2025)

Readings: Isaiah 11:1–10; Psalm 72:1–7, 18–19; Romans 15:4–13; Matthew 3:1–12

Grace to you and peace in this holy season of Advent – this season the
ancient church called the winter Passover, a time of watching, waiting, and
warming our hearts before the hidden light that is about to break upon the
world.

Today’s readings speak of longing, judgment, hope, and new beginnings.
From Isaiah’s picture of the peaceable kingdom to John the Baptist’s strong
call in the wilderness, we hear God’s promise to renew the world and
renew our hearts.

Isaiah gives us a gentle and beautiful image:
‘A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse…’
These words were first spoken to people who had lost almost everything.
The royal family of David seemed cut down – like a tree reduced to a stump.
Advent begins in places like this: moments when human hope feels very
small.

But into this place, God brings new life.
St Gregory the Great once said that God often begins to work when our own
hope has reached an end.

St Hildegard of Bingen used the word viriditas, meaning “holy greenness.”
She wrote:
“The Holy Spirit is life-giving greenness… awakening everything that is.”
Her words remind us that even when life looks dry or broken, God’s Spirit
can make new growth appear.

Isaiah’s small shoot becomes a picture of a renewed world:
The wolf with the lamb… the child leading them.
This is not a sweet fantasy. It is a vision of justice – of a world healed by
God.

Psalm 72 continues this dream. It describes a ruler who protects the poor,
stops oppression, and lets peace grow “until the moon shall be no more.”
Early Christians believed this was a prayer for Christ’s reign in our hearts.
The peaceable kingdom begins inside us – when God brings peace to our
own fears, anger, and struggles.

In Romans, Paul widens Isaiah’s vision. He says that God’s mercy includes
both Jew and Gentile – all peoples. And he prays:
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing…”
Hoping for peace is not just “feeling positive.”
St Augustine called hope “a holy longing” – a desire for God that grows in us
even when life is hard.

St Macrina the Younger, a wise teacher of the early Church, said that
Christian hope is not a wish but a trust in God’s faithful character:
“We look toward what we do not see, trusting the One who is truth itself.”
This is the harmony Paul talks about – unity that comes from trusting the
same Christ.

Then John the Baptist arrives with strong, clear words:
‘Prepare the way… repent… bear fruit.’

His message is not meant to harm us. It is meant to free us. The wilderness
is a place where we can drop our illusions and see ourselves honestly.
St Catherine of Siena prayed: “Be who God meant you to be, and you will set
the world on fire.” Her “fire” is the fire of a heart changed by God – like
John’s message calling us to new life.

The ancient Church taught that Christ comes in three ways:
In history, in Bethlehem, already happened. Our annual celebration of that coming
comes and goes – often covered under the glitter of elves, fake snow and
Santa’s little helpers. The one at the end cannot be our excuse not to be
engaged with the world today and now. So, the way how we recognise and
see Christ’s hidden arrival is the way in which we engage with Christ in our
daily lives. Remembering the past and hoping for the future makes sense
only of we live it here and now.

Advent invites us to make space for this middle coming: in silence, in
prayer, in compassion, in acts of justice and love.

What do these readings ask of us today? – to trust the Spirit’s greening power, even in the dry places of our
lives. – to desire the peaceable kingdom, and to let it guide the way we treat
others. – to practise hope, like St Macrina, trusting the faithfulness of God. – to let the wilderness shape us – to allow repentance to clear our
hearts. – to welcome Christ’s quiet coming, being Christ’s hands and heart in
the world.

Advent is active waiting. It is hope with work attached. We look for Christ
not only in the past or the future, but in this present moment.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace,
so that you may abound in hope,
as the root of Jesse rises again in our midst,
and the Spirit renews the face of the earth.